


Until Proven Guilty

by Asmicarus



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Gradual Romance, Humour, M/M, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asmicarus/pseuds/Asmicarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When William T Spears is accused of the murder of a high- ranking dispatch agent he and his team are given only 48 hours to prove his innocence. The most unlikely sleuths are out to uncover the truth and catch the real murderer before time is up!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mystery Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So this is going to be my first multi- chapter fic. Scary! You know me by now, little angst involved but lots of drama! I wanted to write a murder mystery but it is REALLY hard so apologies if there are any plot sinkholes! XD I wanted to include all the reapers in this one because I love their dynamic. I will try to update as frequently as possible but please be patient with me in-between chapters! :D If you have any constructive criticism, see spelling or grammar mistakes, or just feel like saying hi, please do not hesitate to drop a comment! Kuroshitsuji is not mine. 
> 
> Rated T for some descriptions of violence but not too graphic and some naughty language. 
> 
> Thank you all! :D

William’s green eyed stare practically had the clock on the wall combusting with intesity. 5…4…3…2…1. _Late, they are all late_. William sat behind his large office desk tapping his pen in frustration. The familiar sounds of Dispatch graced his ears. The shrill ringing of a phone, the chattering of his fellow reapers and the ever present whistling of a kettle as someone brewed their early morning cuppa. The familiarity and routine nature of Dispatch calmed his nerves in times like this. When his schedule was disrupted and he was already in a bad mood. His tapping unconsciously quickened and he glanced at the clock again. He was already behind, _bloody fantastic_. He and his team of five (himself included) were supposed to have an itinerary meeting at 6:00am sharp to cover important matters of work and professionalism. It was now 6:03am and the only person sat across from him with three empty chairs was Alan Humphries.

 

“Sir, maybe we could go over the to- die list for today, just until they show up.” There it was, Humphries’ diligent nature. Ever caring and ever reassuring. William was not surprised in the least he was here on time.

“Very well,” Humphries was an honours graduate with impeccable punctuality and consistency. William could only dream of such cooperation throughout the other members of his team. Even in Humphries’ condition he was always cooperative.

“So, I was reviewing the list and I just happened to notice a slight…” 6:05. 5 minutes behind. William didn’t even notice he was no longer paying attention.  

“Sir!” Alan was suddenly stood up and it took William a moment to notice his fountain pen had snapped and had begun to leak ink all over his pristine table. He groaned in frustration.

“I apologise, Humphries, I’m merely a little stressed is all.” Alan looked sympathetic and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and assisted William in clearing the ink that was beginning to stain.

 

They discussed menial matters as a form of distraction until 6:08 when the door to William’s office clattered on its hinges. No knock, no hello, nothing. The three absent reapers strolled in if nothing were amiss and William’s blood began to boil.

“All I’m saying, Ronnie is that if you couldn’t handle your drink you should stay away from the grown-ups!” Grell Sutcliff was the type of reaper that dominated a room when he walked into it. On a Monday morning he was too much to handle for those not used to the way he changes an atmosphere as soon as he walks in. Red from head to toe and sweeping obnoxiously long hair behind his shoulder he sat himself on the nearest chair, not even acknowledging William’s irritation before filing his nails into a sharp point.

“It wasn’t my fault! Those birds kept offering the drinks and it would have been rude to say no! Rhea, my head hurts so bad!” A hungover Ronald Knox plopped himself in the next chair, fishing painkiller from his pocket.

“Besides, Miss Grell, you left early and Eric just sat in the corner and moped the entire night!”

 

William was beginning to question just how respected he was by his team as Eric’s tall and imposing figure leant over the back of Ronald’s chair. His heavy accent was unmistakable.

“For God’s sake, how many times have I told ya? I didn’t mope. I just wasn’t feelin’ too well is all. Your wee ass couldn’t handle one Laphroiag and a glass of water.” Ronald groaned and Grell snorted in amusement.

“Learn from the professionals, darling.” William had had quite enough by now. He stood from his desk, face set in a scowl as he stared down his colleagues.

“Enough, I have no desire to know about your personal affiliations, there is work to be done, this is not a social club.” The three reapers only blinked back with vague concentration.

“Someone needs a cuddle this morning. I for one am up to the ta- ow!” Grell stood at the impact to the back of his head by Eric.

“You brute! My hair!” William could feel the tension rise. They had the attention span of squirrels. He knew it was best just to defuse the situation without getting involved. Ronald’s laughing was not helping. William slammed his thick manila folders on the desk to get their attention once again before they completely careered off course.

 

“Slingby! Sutcliff! If you are quite finished!” He took a moment to compose himself. “Your assignments for today are contained here. Knox, I want last week’s work done for today. Sutcliff, I want soul accounting done.” Grell’s pointed teeth were displayed in a smirk.

“Oh darling, I was only ac- counting on seeing you later.” A groan resounded amongst the office.

“My God, that one was awful!” Eric took his folder from William and reviewed it briefly. William, used to Grell’s wit and attempted humour, continued without distraction.

“Humphries, you will not be on the field today.”

 

Alan looked up from his lap and his eyes widened in upset.

“Sir, with all due respect I can still do my job in collections.” William was almost tempted considering how understaffed his division was, but he reasoned with himself that it would only worsen his situation. Eric seemed to agree.

“You’re not doing it, Alan, no’ in your- “

“Don’t baby me!” Alan was a capable reaper, but William could see Eric’s concern for the small reaper’s wellbeing was beginning to upset him. Grell called from over his shoulder.

“You have a little taskmaster there, Eric!”

“Fuck yo’, Red!” William sighed, pretending not to notice the way the Scotsman’s cheeks pinked.

“In a remarkable turn of events, Slingby is right. Humphries, you will continue with administrative work for today.”

 

Alan nodded respectfully, although quite clearly disappointed and made his way over to his desk, Eric following close behind. For such a rough man, Eric Slingby did seem to have a soft spot for little Alan Humphries, and Eric knew it. Grell never seemed to forget to remind him, much to Eric’s disdain. William walked out the door of his office where Grell was leant against the doorway.

“Are you coming to pick up your scythe or are you deliberately trying to keep a lady waiting?” William pushed his glasses up his nose.

“I see no lady to keep waiting.” As they walked along the narrow corridors William found himself on the receiving end of Grell’s gossip about Ronald’s intoxicated condition the previous night.

“So I wake up in the infirmary, Eric is covered in blood and Ronnie is sat piss drunk in the corner singing ‘Life on Mars’ at the top of his lungs when- “ Of course, William barely listened. He held little interest in his coworker’s personal lives.

 

As they turned the corner towards maintenance the atmosphere seemed to shift and William felt suddenly uneasy. It was just a regular day; why did he suddenly feel so jumpy? Even Grell had quieted, obviously sensing it too. As the two walked side by side he could _feel_ people staring at him. Had he ripped his trousers? Had something in his teeth? Hushed whispers were exchanged and the tension seemed to thicken at every step.

“Did you reap a puppy or something?” Grell half- whispered close to William’s ear. He shook his head in reply. He was becoming concerned and suddenly, Dispatch didn’t feel familiar any more. People hushed from behind hands and everyone was looking whether it be direct staring or just from the corner of their eye. He leant over to Grell.

“Is it me or is everyone staring?” Grell nodded as they approached the maintenance desk. The woman at the desk look up from her magazine. Her eyes widened as she saw William’s face. That was certainly unusual.

“Your name, Sir?” As if she didn’t know already…

“William T Spears.”

“Just a moment, please.”

 

The woman disappeared behind some fogged glass just as William felt Grell’s hands on his shoulders in comfort. He shrugged them off, this was a professional workspace.

“Are you manageable at the moment or shall I wait until you’re in a better mood?” William sighed. He needed to calm himself down.

“What do you want?”

“Well, my dear scythe is looking a bit drab so I was wondering if the best boss in the realm could- “

“No. You cannot further customize your scythe.” Grell took in a breath to begin his argument but the maintenance lady returned. She had no scythe in hand.

“I’m sorry Mr. Spears, your scythe was not there.” Both reapers paused. How is that possible?

“What do you mean?” he asked. The woman looked at a nearby clipboard.

“It seems that your supervisor, Mrs. Twelvetree checked it out in the early hours of this morning.” Grell and William looked on in confusion.

“Why would the old bat want Will’s scythe?” The woman looked as if she were about to answer but then shrugged her shoulders. Grell’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. She knew why. All these damned people did. Was there something they had not heard about?

“I suggest you wait in your office for further news.”

 

With fresh uncertainty Grell collected his own scythe and they headed back down the warren of corridors towards the office. They were about two corners away when William began to panic. They could hear Eric’s thick accent pierce the quiet. William and Grell exchanged a quick glance before breaking into a sprint. Eric’s voice became clearer as they got closer. There was a disturbance, and they were about to find out why.  

“Bloody ‘ell, wha’ business do you have comin’ here and screwin’ up all our paperwork? Piss off!”

“He’s right! Why are you even here?” Ronald spoke, quickly and frantically. William and Grell turned the corner and hoped their eyes deceived them when they saw the grey uniforms of law enforcement pulling apart their office.

 

Paper flew everywhere, there were desks hitting the floor and poor Alan was trying desperately to scurry around after them. Eric looked beyond angry and Ronald just stood shocked in the doorway.

“What in the heavens in going on here?” William just about managed to ask, suddenly not trusting his own voice. All at once the law enforcers stopped tearing apart Ronald’s desk and turned to his voice. The tallest enforcer pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket, studied it and looked at William’s face. He did this slowly a few times before seeming to make a decision. He snapped his finger and two smaller officers marched towards William.

“Wait, what are you doing!? Unhand me!” He began to panic and try to shake the grasp they had on his arms. Alan jumped to his aid.

“Unhand him! You cannot indefinitely detain a fellow of the Grim Reaper Dispatch Association without probable cau-“ A slap resounded and Alan reeled back, gasping. The officer to William’s left had just slapped Alan! Eric braced forward to punch the man back but Grell stepped in front of him.

“Don’t, you brute! You’ll get into more trouble, just take care of Alan!” Ronald had helped the small reaper up and Eric begrudgingly retreated.

 

The tallest officer stood menacingly in front of William and William stopped resisting, searching desperately for a reason for his incarceration.

“William T Spears, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of the great Ambassador Jon Price.” The world seemed to stand still. Murder!? He’d never broken a rule in his life, never mind murder! William barely registered himself being taken away and his coworkers following behind him. His mind just kept replaying the same word. _Murder… murder… murder…_

 

 

When he finally had a moment to gather his thoughts he was in the interrogation room located in the basement levels of Dispatch. His hands were cuffed to a metal loop on the table and a light shone in his face, making him squint. The room itself was a drab grey with only the table and a chair occupying it. In front of him was a one-way mirror. He couldn’t believe it, but he would love for Grell to be here to break the tension, or Ronald to crack an inappropriate joke, even Slingby to say something blunt and offensive. The metal door of the room was opened an in walked Mrs. Twelvetree, his supervisor. She was an elderly lady with a sour demeanour, dressed in a black tweed suit finishing the look with a twin set of pearls. She put her papers on the desk and stood opposite him.

“I do hope I have not caused too much distress for you Mr. Spears. Do you know why you’re here?” He was almost tempted to complain of the spike in his blood pressure, but resisted quickly.

“No Ma’am” Mrs. Twelvetree opened the folder on the desk. William almost had to gag at the images contained within. A man on the floor of what William recognized as the head office in a pool of his own blood, careful slices where all his arteries were located.

“You have been arrested on suspicion of murdering Ambassador Price. He was found dead in the early hours of this morning. His Carotids, Subclavian, Axillary, Brachial, Aorta, Renal, Iliac, and Femoral arteries had been cut, causing him to bleed to death. Autopsy has revealed that the wounds on the body match the cutting capabilities and shape of your death scythe. Furthermore, it has come to my notice that a few mere weeks ago you were denied promotion by Price himself. Did you think this was the appropriate course of action to take?”

 

William was in shock. His mouth literally hung open. It dawned on him. He had the weapon, he had the influence, he had the motive. They thought he had killed Price. The man did irritate William to no end, he deserved that promotion, but he would never kill a fellow! Not ever!

“I can assure you Ma’am, this heinous crime is not of my bidding. I was in my home in the early hours of this morning.”

“Can anyone attest to that?” William gulped.

“No Ma’am. It was only me.” Mrs. Twelvetree gave him a petulant look before pulling out a small notepad and pen.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to detain you indefinitely until more evidence has been gained and then from there we’ll- “ The door to the room flung open and a streak of red bolted into the room.

“I don’t think so, lady!” Mrs. Twelvetree turned and her face was smeared with disgust when she laid eyes on Grell. Ronald, Eric and Alan followed behind.

“Mr. Sutcliff, violating uniform code again so I see?” Grell scoffed.

“That’s Miss to you, and that’s rich coming from the one wearing tweed!”

“How dare yo-“ Ronald pushed in front of Grell in an effort to silence him.

“Sorry Ma’am, but please, let our boss at least try to prove his innocence! The investigators have already made their minds up without all the evidence!” Mrs. Twelvetree began to gather her folders together in preparation to leave.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow a criminal impede the investigation.” Alan stepped forward, his cheek was starting to bruise over from the earlier hit.

“Everyone is innocent until proven guilty, Ma’am. Please give him a chance!” William was a little overwhelmed by the support from his colleagues, they had not given him the time of day this morning and now they were standing in his defence.

 

Mrs. Twelvetree was having none of it, she made her way over to the door.

“I’m sorry Mr. Humphries, I will not allow a private investigation by a suspect.” She was just about to leave when Eric stood menacingly in her path, arms crossed and lips twisted into a sneer.

“Fine, how abou’ I sneak off an’ tell the Supreme Associates abou’ how your employees struck an ill reaper in an aggravated condition tha’ shock could have killed ‘im.” Mrs. Twelvetree’s eyes narrowed in the Scotsman’s direction. Eric could see her calculating the situation with pros and cons. She turned towards the table again and leaned over in William’s face.

“I will give you 48 hours, Mr. Spears. Prove your innocence in that time and you will go free, if you fail, you are imprisoned and loose your job.” William sighed deeply in relief, he didn’t realise he had been holding his breath. 48 hours. He could work with that. She uncuffed his hands slowly.

“Thank you, Ma’am, you won’t regret it.” Just like that, Mrs. Twelvetree was gone.

 

William remained sitting as he didn’t yet trust his legs to stand. He checked his watch. It was only 6:45. The five stood there for a minute, reviewing the past 15 minutes individually. Ronald broke the silence of the room.

“Okay, this is good and all but where are we even going to start proving Will’s innocence?” Grell smirked and slipped a magnifying glass from his pocket.

“Easy, my junior detective! We look for more evidence.” Eric stepped forward.

“The body should still be in autopsy; we should start there.” Alan joined circle of reapers.

“That’s a good idea, we can take our investigation from there.” Was this what teamwork looked like? William wouldn’t know, this had never happened to his ‘team’, they were always arguing in one way or another. He decided he needed a holiday. In the space of 45 minutes he’s been arrested, accused of murder, had his colleagues stand up for him despite all evidence, and become a private investigator. Here he goes. 5 reapers, 48 hours and absolutely zero evidence in his favour.

 

    7:00. Time to prove his innocence.      

 

 


	2. Records and Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reapers investigate their first lead to find someone who may just be their first suspect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the mystery continues! Here's where we get started in the real Scooby- Doo stuff. As usual, please let me know if you see corrections, something you like or don't like, or just fancy saying hi! Also, please excuse the amount of OC's. I usually don't like using them but for this type of story i'm afraid they're necessary. Characters probably a bit OCC but it's all about improving. :D Disclaimer is in chapter 1. Thank you all :D

The air of the cobbled streets was thick and heavy with the summer heat. The mortal world had so little to offer. The clip clop of a cart horse, the loud clunking of workhouses and the wet coughing of the lepers at the side of the street. William sneered at the uncleanliness of it all, yet he followed his colleagues down the path as if there was nothing amiss and they weren’t agents of death walking amongst mortals. William was so caught up in his own thoughts he almost missed Grell make a sharp right down a narrow alleyway leading off to a side street. A wooden sign hung overhead that read ‘Undertakers’ in curled script. The reapers stopped in front of the decorated door that would lead them inside to Price’s body.

“Alright, Hardy boys, we’re here!” Ronald looked up at the building and gulped. It was large and imposing. It had darkened windows, one of which was smashed and signs decorated with rather ironic skull décor.

“Um, I don’t like this, Miss Grell. Thought of all those bodies gives me the heeby jeebies.” Eric turned to look at Ronald with his eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

“Ronnie, you collec’ the souls of the dyin’ daily and you’re afraid of a few dead bodies? It’s the livin’ you should be afraid of, no’ the dead.” Ronald pouted as Eric and Grell let out a poorly concealed snigger.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Ronald’s voice became quiet and wary. “You know, just when you see those last morsels of breath leave them, when they try to cling hopelessly onto life, their eyes lose their shine… and… and”

“BOO!”

“AHHHHHH!” Ronald and Eric jumped a foot in the air, both clutching their chests, breathing deeply as if to slow their frantic heart rates. Once they had calmed down, with both feet on terra firma, they heard soft laughing.

“Oh dear! Ha! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself!” Alan doubled over, thinking he was about to cry with laughter.

 

Eric and Ronald glared and stood up straight again, Ronald adjusting his jacket and Eric letting loose a manly cough. As if that did anything to save his ego.

“You all are incorrigible!” William pushed past his fellow reapers and extended a hand towards the doorknob. As he pushed the door inwards a bell rung on the opposite side, alerting the Undertaker they were present. William wouldn’t usually go to such lengths to get information from a deserter, but when his job was on the line he wasn’t really in any position to decline help from anyone… even an ancient freak. They stepped inside only to find a few coffins dotted around on their stands and large jars of salt preservative propped up in the corner. William scanned the room but found no sign of the Undertaker. Grell seemed more than happy to assist the search it seemed, as he began to open the lids of the coffins to look inside.

“Oh, where are you? My silver haired Adonis?” William rolled his eyes at the enthusiasm when he began to hear a quiet laughter emitting from over his shoulder. Not the kind of happy laughter, but a creepy chuckle.

 

He turned around to find the long haired man closing the door to the shop while turning in their direction.

“Well, my, my, my, it’s been a while since I’ve had the company of reapers in my shop!” Grell took notice of the voice and practically flung himself at the smiling man.

“Oh, my dear, it’s been so long! Now, I would ask how you are faring but it would seem we’re on a slight bit of a time schedule, so I’m going to cut to the chase.” Grell then sauntered over to a coffin stand and plopped himself on it.

“Our William has found himself the prime suspect of the murder of old Ambassador Price. He only has 48 hours to prove his innocence so we need to take a look at anything this victim had on him in his time of death.” The Undertaker tilted his head in confusion and broke out into a toothy grin. He walked across the shop, his boots thumping heavily on the wooden floor, and pulled out a box with the words ‘Price’ scribbled on the sides.

 

Ronald went to take the box from the Undertaker when he snatched it away from his grasp.

“Ah, ah, ah, you know my cost.” Ronald groaned and immediately began to think of all the jokes he knew off the top of his head. All his jokes were either terrible or pickup lines. Ronald shook his head in defeat. Eric stood up from the jar he had been leaning on and looked over at Ronald with a wicked smirk.

“I’ll give ya a joke. Last nigh’ this one ‘ere” he gestured to Ronald, “had one highland whisky and go’ ‘imself so pissed he puked all over ‘imself and cried all night about how he could sing a song that hadn’t even been invented yet.” The Undertaker stopped to look at Ronald’s tomato red face before chuckling… giggling… flat out laughing… and finally it escalated into full blown hysterics.

“Hey! It’s not funny! You could strip paint with that whiskey!” he tried to shout over the Undertaker’s hysteria as the man wiped a tear from his eye, pushing the box containing Jon’s possessions into Alan’s grip.

 

Alan placed the box gently on the counter and opened the lid. To his surprise there was nothing there except one small piece of flimsy paper. He studied it carefully with the others looking over his shoulder.

“It’s a receipt for a large bouquet of roses from a shop called ‘Mahoney’s’. It says ‘For Brenda’.” Alan passed the receipt around the group so they each could have a look. Grell examined it last and smiled.

“Well, it looks like we have two points of information. Mahoney’s shop and this woman, Brenda.” William looked over the faces of his team before his eyes settled on Ronald’s focused face.

“What are you thinking, Knox?” Ronald looked up suddenly, not noticing he was being watched.

“Mahoney’s. It sounds familiar.” He thought harder. “Yes! The girl that owns it came to one of my parties, she delivers glasses cleaner to Dispatch on Tuesdays. I wanted to chat her up, but she came with a boyfriend. Real bummer.” he crossed his arms and sighed in disappointment.

“Her shop is just off of the square back in the Reaper Realm.” William was relieved. They had a lead, someone that could help prove his innocence. Grell clapped his hands together decisively and took control. As usual.

“Right then! William, Eric and I will go to Mahoney’s and ask this person about Price and any connections he may have had. Alan, you’re good with books. You go to the Dispatch archives to find who this ‘Brenda’ is. Take Ronnie with you.” They each nodded in agreement, letting Grell handle the situation efficiently. For the first time in forever. They wished the Undertaker a simple thank you and goodbye before travelling back to the Reaper Realm to split up.

 

They parted ways a good half hour back. William, Grell and Eric walked quickly towards the shop signposted ‘Mahoney’s’. Grell and Eric chatted idly while William stayed just a few paces behind.

“Boss, y’okay?” Eric questioned in a voice very much unlike him. It was softer, more of a prying tone than demanding one.

“Yes, Slingby, I’m merely a little tired is all.” Grell hummed in understanding.

“You have had quite the eventful day. I must admit though it has all been rather exciting.” William stopped to think. He had spent a whole half a day away from the regular sounds of Dispatch. No routine, no predictability. It was all so spontaneous and should he even dare call it exciting? Maybe when his job wasn’t on the line.

 

Mahoney’s was located just as Ronald said. Right off of the square in a hidden back street. The front veranda had a charming baby blue and white canopy, wooden street sign and hanging baskets of flowers outside the entrance. Eric pushed the door open and the bell rung in a sharp, crisp sound. There were shelves and shelves of all kinds of things from crockery to stationary. There was a little floristry in the corner. This must have been where the bouquet of roses was purchased. Grell walked over to admire some of the flowers. He picked up a bunch of small, purple buds and studied them.

“Aren’t these gorgeous? What are they, I wonder?” Eric looked away from Grell and mumbled.

“They’re Erica flowers. The’ mean ‘loneliness’ or ‘solitude’” Grell and William looked at him as if he had grown another head.

“I had you down as a lot of things, but admittedly a botany expert was not one of them.” William pushed his glasses up his nose in an effort to relieve some of the awkward tension.

“Alan taugh’ me.” Grell let loose a wicked smirk and was about to tease Eric when a young girl burst through the back door of the shop.

 

She was small and petite in frame, mousey brown hair fell about her shoulders in a gentle curl and she wore a grey dress underneath her apron.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you! I’m Eliza Mahoney, can I assist you in any way?” she held out a polite hand for the reapers to shake. William took it firmly and nodded.

“Thank you Miss Mahoney. I’m afraid we’re here on the investigation of the murder of Ambassador Jon Price.” Eliza brought her hands over her mouth in shock, her eyebrows raising high on her face. She shook her head and became visibly upset. Eventually she did drop her hands from her face to rest over her heart.

“I’m sorry if we upse’ ya.” She shook her head.

“No, I’m sorry. It just came as such a shock. He was one of my regulars. Came in all the time to buy things.” Grell gently placed the receipt on the counter and leant over it on his elbows.

“That’s actually why we’re here. His last purchase was a bouquet of roses form your shop. Did he act at all different when he came in?” Eliza seemed to take in Grell’s overwhelming appearance before she looked up in thought.

“Now you mention it he did seem rather paranoid the last time he came in. He looked over his shoulder every five seconds, as if someone were following him.” The three nodded in quick succession. Grell went to take back the receipt before something on the counter caught his eye.

 

It was a simple picture frame with two smiling figures, one being Eliza and the other being a tall young man with blonde hair.

“Oh my, what a cutie! Is this the boyfriend?” Eliza giggled and admired the picture as if it were the first time she’d seen it.

“Yes, that’s my Luke. What I would do without him I’m not sure.” Her expression suddenly turned solemn. “Daddy would have loved him.” Eric pried gently, it wasn’t every day a reaper was killed, his first guess was demon attack.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s okay. It was a freak accident, nobody’s fault. All he left behind was this piece of cinematic record.” She gestured to a small reel next to the picture frame that had obviously been lovingly kept and cleaned every day. Silence settled before Eric broke the solemn mood, although he desperately wanted to ask what the record contained. Probably a treasured part of his life, or maybe even the accident itself. No, that was insensitive to ask.

“You’ve been a grea’ help, lass. Than’ you.” Eliza’s sweet smile returned as she nodded.

“You’re very welcome. If you need any more help do not hesitate to pop back. If you find anything new, let me know.”

“We will, Thank you.” With that the three left the shop (not without Grell purchasing another lovely bouquet of red roses… oh the irony.) They settled in the street just outside.

“Now, over to records. Let’s hope Alan and Ronald have found something.”

 

Ronald had taken but two steps into the archive library at Dispatch before freezing in his path to take in the sheer volume of files stored in front of him. The shelves were each 20-foot-high and extended the full length of the old hall. He was almost afraid he’d loose Alan in all the paper.

“Bloody hell! How are we ever going to find anything in this!?” Alan turned from his place at the bottom of a tall rolling ladder to look at Ronald in confusion.

“Have you never been to a library?” Ronald rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t exactly the most diligent studier in the academy.” Alan shook his head in disapproval as he came to stand next to him. He used his hands to point to different shelves to try and explain, but Ronald couldn’t help but think he just looked like an air hostess, especially in that bolo tie suit.

“It’s quite simple really. This archive works on the dewy decimal classification system. Each file is alphabetized in categories and then each of those are sub- divided into further categories, which then means-” Ronald rubbed his temples and groaned.

“Here’s an idea. How about you look and I’ll just… um… make sure you don’t fall off the ladder!”   

 

Alan looked at him disapprovingly. Ronald was a perfectly capable and remarkably intelligent reaper, but he lacked sufficient effort and was also unbelievably lazy.

“Fine. I’ll have a quick look.” Alan climbed a ladder close by while Ronald took a spot on the floor. Needless to say, it was not a ‘quick look’. An hour later Alan was still flicking through shelves upon shelves of files looking for the one they needed. Ronald groaned from his place on the floor.

“Al, have you found anything yet?” He whined, looking up at the ceiling and beginning to feel his eyelids droop.

“Yes! I found something!” Ronald sat bolt upright and held the rolling ladder still as Alan’s feet found the floor. He knelt down before spreading a file flat on the carpet.

“This is Ambassador Price’s personal file. If there’s anything it’s bound to be in here.” Alan scanned each piece of paper he held until he stopped over one particular official looking document.

“What is it?” Ronald took one half of the paper in hand as Alan held on to the other half.

“Brenda is Price’s wife! These are divorce documents that she signed… but Jon never put his signature down.” Ronald punched the air in celebration.

“I knew our hard work would pay off!” Alan raised a tentative eyebrow with a smile.

“ _Our_ hard work?”

“Did you fall off the ladder?”

“No”

“Then it was a job well done!”

 

 

Ronald and Alan eventually found William, Grell and Eric on a bench near the square. Grell stood up as he saw them.

“Any luck?” Alan nodded enthusiastically.

“Brenda is Jon’s wife. It seems she wanted out of their marriage and even signed a divorce settlement, but Jon never signed.” Grell seemed pleased at this revelation.

“You beauties! This is fantastic news!” Eric patted both Ronald and Alan on the back.

“We’ll question Brenda next. We found tha’ Jon was a regular customer of Mahoney’s but seemed nervous and paranoid las’ time he came in. Maybe he knew of his oncoming murder? You say Jon didn’t sign the divorce settlemen’?”  William thought for a moment.

“That would provide Brenda with a motive. If she wanted out of the marriage and Jon wouldn’t sign the settlement she would harbour a lot of discontent with Jon.” Grell clapped his hands together.

“It’s settled then. Brenda is suspect number one.”

 

 

  


	3. Breaking and Entering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reapers make their way to Brenda's address to find that the plot only thickens and their next lead might not be as comfortable as they thought... especially when disguises are involved!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I wanted to get this next chapter up before I go away to the lovely Lake District! As I am still learning and murder mysteries are notoriously difficult to write please excuse just the slightest bit of coincidence! Thanks! Disclaimer is in chapter 1 and as usual, please feel free to leave some constructive criticism, compliments or just a hi in the comments. hmm, do I put Eric in a kilt? :D Enjoy!

Driving in Eric’s clapped out mini wasn’t at all unpleasant when they had all this beautiful countryside to look at out the windows. The drab city centre made way to fields and fields of green and wildflowers as they drove further and further away from Dispatch. It was summer so the windows were rolled down to let a gentle breeze cool those currently stuck in the car with little room to spare. Ronald sniffed miserably due to his rampant hay fever, but there was a significantly content feel about the drive bedsides the background noise of his sniffing and sneezing, which was starting to grind William’s nerves. Alan was particularly enjoying himself in the front seat, just closing his eyes and feeling the wind brushing his cheeks. Eric drove fast, faster than he should have, but they were on a time schedule after all. When were they not? The hour had just ticked over when an oncoming forest made its way into view. The trees were black against the brightness of the sky, poking up like needles from the horizon. All the reapers’ gazes looked to the forest simultaneously and Eric unconsciously applied a tad of brake as the road turned from smooth tarmac to cracked and bumpy gravel. Alan looked back at the divorce papers containing Brenda’s address. It was definitely far out of the city so he was convinced they were going in the right direction; it was just unusual for someone who worked in Dispatch to have a house so far away from the centre of town. He did have to wonder why Jon and Brenda still lived together if they were so unhappy in their marriage. He speculated as to whether Jon was the controlling type and wouldn’t let her leave. _That would be awful_ , Alan thought to himself.

 

The forest on the horizon had become closer to reveal large oak trees with trunks thick and leaves green. There were acorns dotted over the road as a sign of the spring giving way to summer. As the car disappeared under the canopy of leaves it became dark and cold. Even in the daytime Ronald couldn’t help but shiver and roll the window closed. Grell, who had become increasingly bored of the silence, looked over into the front seat to peer at the papers in Alan’s hands.

“Are we nearly there yet? We’ve been on the road for hours!” He flopped back into the seat and the car creaked and shook. Eric visibly gripped the steering wheel tighter with a warning growl.

“We have no’ been on the road fo’ hours. It’s been forty minutes,” Grell puffed out a sigh. It had definitely been more than forty minutes. William (who was sat in-between Grell and Ronald) rubbed his eyes. His legs were beginning to cramp with being stuck in this tiny car for too long. He wondered briefly how Eric could fit with his lumbering height and stockier build. That being said his seat was pushed back as far as it would go so he could use the clutch. Poor Ronald almost had his knees to his ears with being sat behind such a tall driver. Everyone was starting to get antsy. Patience was not one of Grell’s fortes.

“When do we get there!?” He crossed his arms and bounced his knee, doing anything to keep himself busy.

“We ge’ there when we ge’ there.”  Eric replied between gritted teeth. Familiar silence set in as everyone looked out the windows to the forest that had now engulfed them. It was so dense you almost couldn’t see between the trees and the road had got noticeably windier.

“I spy with my little- “

“Shut up, Ronnie!” William hoped to the high heavens they were close now. Even he was feeling the familiar lick of irritation shoot down his spine. Eric could obviously feel it too. The car had begun to drift onto the right side of the road, it was a good job there was absolutely no vehicles around besides them or else there would be collision.

 

Alan placed a small palm on Eric’s forearm to calm him. It seemed to work as the car returned to its place on the left side of the road. It was a few further minutes of Ronald’s incessant humming (Life on Mars, again) before they slowed to a stop.

“I think we have our residence.” Alan stepped out the car and pulled his seat forward so the others could climb out the back. Damn these cars with only two doors and curse their ridiculous inconvenience. They were, however, met with a beautiful country house settled in the middle of a clearing in the dense forest. The building itself was large with intricate brickwork. Ivy wound up the sides and the whole thing was topped off with a wooden stable door and thatched roof. A balcony also stuck out one side to overlook the forest. Ronald whistled, clearly impressed by the sheer size and beauty of the place.  

“Gordon Bennett! I’d love to own a place like this!”

“I must say, it does have that chocolate box feel to it. Look at all those flowers!” Alan admired the house’s front garden as he began to walk towards the door. Grell followed closely behind.

“Price may have been a miserable man, but he sure knows how to keep a lady happy in the home.” William walked by the two directly towards the door.

“We’re not here property buying, you might have forgotten, but my job is on the line.” He knocked three times in short succession. Very efficient, very Will. There was no answer. He knocked again. Waited. No answer.

“Dammit. She must be out.”

 

Everyone visibly slumped with a groan. They couldn’t investigate further until they had spoken to Brenda. She was the only lead they had! Grell then looked up suddenly, seeming to have had a good idea. He ran round the side of the house and looked up.

“Over here, Hardy boys! We have a way in.” The others followed Grell’s voice to his place below the balcony. He was stood back a little bit and had a grin on his face.

“How do ya mean?” Grell took Eric’s chin in his palm and jerked his head to the balcony. The large French doors were wide open and the chiffon curtains were being blown by the breeze. Eric slapped Grell’s hand away and placed his own on his hips.

“Grea’. So ya want us to break in.” Grell grinned wider, not unlike a Cheshire cat. Yes, he wanted them to break in.

“The balcony doors are wide open! It’s not breaking in; we’re practically being invited!” Alan looked to Grell timidly and fiddled with his own fingers, a sure sign he was uncomfortable.

“We can’t do that, it feels wrong.” Grell rolled his green eyes. Honestly, sometimes he felt as if he was the only one with any sense of adventure.

“Grow a pair, Alan.”

“Don’ ‘ave a go at ‘im because he’s considerin’ this woman’s feelin’s” Eric snapped back immediately, always quick to defend the smaller reaper, even if Alan was perfectly capable of defending himself.

 

Ronald looked up to the open windows.

“I guess we don’t have a choice. We’re not stealing or anything. Just looking around. That’s okay, right?” William couldn’t believe he was saying this…

“He’s right. I don’t encourage trespassing, but we have no other option at this point.” William walked closer to the building. The balcony was not too high up, they could probably give Grell and Ronald a boost and they would be able to reach. Alan would be lighter but too short. It looked that kind of awkward distance.

“Eric, help me give Grell a boost.” William and Eric each linked their hands to create a foothold while Grell got the idea and began to heave himself up to the balcony so he was pathetically dangling by his arms.

“Grell, your stilettos are goin’ to puncture ma hands!” Eric shook his fingers out as Grell stumbled over the balcony. He had two distinctive red rings on his rough palms from the ridiculous shoes the other reaper wore.

“Stop complaining! It would be a honour to be impaled by such wonderful footwear!” William and Eric then proceeded to hoist Ronald up with much more ease. He landed nimbly next to Grell, much more agile on his feet, before they both waved down to the forest floor.

“What do you see up there?” Alan called up with his hands cupped beside his mouth, as if to act like a megaphone.

 

Ronald and Grell ventured past the French doors, pushing away the curtains as they entered. Inside there was a large four poster double bed, an oak wardrobe, chest of drawers, a trunk at the foot of the bed, and an elaborate vanity. The whole room was decorated tastefully in creams and soft pastel colours. Ronald leant over the balcony.

“It looks like the master bedroom.”  The two tip toed into the room. It still felt like Brenda could walk through the door at any second and catch them trespassing even though they knew she was not home. Ronald took the time to sit on the bed before bouncing himself a few times and laying back onto the soft cotton.

“Ah, this is the life!”

“Get up! She’ll see the disturbed sheets, idiot!” Ronald sprang to his feet and immediately missed the feeling of soft fabric under his cheek, he smoothed out the sheets again. Grell had begun to look through the drawers and Ronald opened the chest. Every dress, every shirt, every sock was folded meticulously, which only made their snooping around harder. Who _folded_ socks?

“Wow, a far cry from my apartment, I can tell you that.” Grell made a face of disgust.

“I don’t even want to know about the filth you live in.”

“Half eaten pizzas and dirty underwear mostly.” Grell’s lip curled upward to reveal his serrated teeth gritted together.

“Men.”

 

They did a little more rummaging around, making sure to fold everything properly and put it back where they found it. There was no evidence of Brenda’s connection to the murder as of yet, but they still had the vanity to take a look at. Ronald sat himself on the velvet stool and fixed his hair in the three oval mirrors. The summer humidity did nothing for his style. There was a lot of makeup decorating the table. Lipsticks, blushers, even a few fake moles here and there but no substantial evidence. Ronald opened the small drawers only to find perfumes and jewellry.

“I guess there’s nothing in here.” He went to get up but was held down by Grell’s firm, gloved grip on his shoulder. He waggled a finger and tutted.

“Now, now Ronnie, do you know nothing about this beautiful creation?” He looked back perplexed and shook his head. Grell shooed him off the stool before pulling the drawer out again. He removed the various perfume bottles until the it was empty. He hooked his fingers under the drawer and the bottom panel popped open. A secret compartment. Ronald took a closer look when he reached his hand in only to pull out several small pieces of folded paper.  
“What are these?” The red reaper didn’t even have to look to know what they were.

“Honey, there is only one type of letter women keep in a secret vanity drawer.”

 

Ronald selected the piece of paper on top of the pile and opened it. He noticed that the paper was rose scented and the letter was written in a gracefully curled hand.

 

_My Dear Leon,_

_It will be soon that we are together, my love. My husband is merely having difficulty with our settlement and it is clear he still harbours feelings toward my person. I promise this will be over soon and we can be together in peace. I have already given you my most valued possession. I hope this shows that I am serious about us. I hope to soon be your wife. I will see you at the garden party thrown by Ms. Maple on the 17 th, the invitation reached me safe and sound. _

_Until then, my love,_

_Brenda._

“Bloody hell, she was having an affair?” Ronald put the stack of letters on the vanity to examine them more closely. There were endless letters with beginnings like ‘My love’, ‘darling’, or ‘my sweetheart’ and they were not addressed to her husband.

“Just as I expected. Maybe Price wasn’t as good as keeping a woman happy as we originally thought.” Ronald nodded.

“We need to show the others!”

“As long as we return the letters to the room it’s fine.” The two ran out to the balcony and leaned over. The remaining reapers were sat on the grass simply enjoying the sun, except William who seemed to be pacing anxiously.

“Hey! We found something!” All three heads shot up and they stood. William and Eric helped Ronald down as he had the letters. Grell, thinking he would get the same treatment, let go of the railing… and hit the ground. He should have expected as such. It’s not like they valued him or anything. He was about to get up and dust himself off just as he always does when a gloved hand was presented to him. He witnessed William’s icy gaze looking down. He took the offered hand and was grateful for it as he stood up.

“Thank you, Will.” He received a curt nod. Maybe he was more valued than he thought.

 

They formed a small circle as Ronald presented the letters.

“They’re scarlet letters. We found them in a secret compartment in the vanity. The letters are from Brenda addressed to a guy named Leon. She’s been having an affair.” Ronald passed the letters around the circle and each person read them over. There seemed to be nothing of a plan that was to kill Price.

“Even if it isn’t written down this still gives her a motive.” William handed back all the letters. “We need to find out who Leon is.” Alan opened the file that contained Price’s personal information.

“Leon Girling was his old collections partner. It says here they were close until one day it just seems they stopped talking altogether. How odd.”

“Tha’ must have been when th’ affair started.” They all nodded in agreement. That was the logical explanation. Ronald pulled out an envelope with a carefully embroidered rose on the front.

“Grell, this must be the invite to the garden party.” Grell snatched it from Ronald’s hands and his eyes skimmed it.

“The 17th at 2:00pm. That’s today! Leon will be there with Brenda. This gives us time to question Leon subtly. He may reveal something if he thinks we don’t know about Price.” William looked over Grell’s shoulder and thanked every deity known to him coincidences existed in times like this.

 

William looked at the invitation. The party was to be held at the Maple manor, dress to impress, high tea and entertainment included. A true upper class engagement. William’s eyes moved to the next line of text. Dammit, there was only one problem.

“Admission for a lady with an escort.” Grell sighed.

“Oh dear, that is a bit of an issue.” Ronald looked Grell up and down incredulously.

“Miss Grell could easily go as a lady!” William shook his head. Grell himself was rather flattered.

“The idea is that we want to lay low. Grell is more of the recognizable nature, especially if this Leon retired from Dispatch just a few years after Grell and I became fully fledged reapers. He’ll know it’s us just from the slightest hint of red in the corner of his eye and know we’re here about Price.” Grell hated to admit it, but William was right, he was too unique. Not that that was anything to be ashamed of, he prided himself in being easily recognizable and unique, it was not quite appropriate for this job though. They needed someone who could pass for a perfectly boring noble lady.

“William’s right. We need someone small in frame, soft features, well mannered, socially subtle, sensitive. An Elizabeth Bennett if ever we saw one.” Then it hit them. The situation was comical. William, Grell, Eric and Ronald looked up in unison and all turned their attention to the last reaper, who was still lost in thought. Sweet little Alan Humphries.

 

He seemed to notice all their eyes on him. He shook his head vehemently.

“Me? No! I wouldn’t pass for a lady” Alan was almost somewhat intimidated by the wicked, pointed grin on Grell’s face.

“No now, but after I’m done with you you will!” Alan gulped as the elaborate reaper took his arm. “Not to worry, darling, you’re in the hands of an expert.”

“That’s all well and good but who’s going to accompany him? Leon Girling would recognize Grell and I so it has to be Ronald or Eric.” Grell linked his other arm with the tall Scotsman beside him.

“Ronnie is too young. A distinguished lady would not take a teenager to a garden party. It’ll have to be Eric.” Grell took absolute delight in the way Eric’s face paled and then pinked. Oh, how he loved messing with him, loved breaking down those carefully constructed barriers of his outside to the sensitive core underneath. It was so surprisingly easy after he’d discovered all he needed to do is mention Alan Humphries’ name and the office tomcat became a meek kitten in an instant. Eric knew it was the logical choice.  

“Alrigh’ red. Wha’ do I do? I’m no’ exactly in tune with the upper class social graces.” Grell pulled the two reapers into him tighter and held up a knowledgeable finger.

“Get dressed in your Sunday best. Not your work suits, something else smart, like a tux.” Eric’s face was not one of amusement.

“Ma Sunday best is a kilt and shirt.” Ronald sniggered behind a hand. Eric would venomously deny a kilt had any resemblance to a skirt whatsoever. It was still too funny to Ronald though. Big, tough Eric Slingby in a skirt.

“Is that really the best you have?” Eric rolled his eyes and gave in. He didn’t see why a kilt wasn’t smart. It was his national dress after all.

“I’ll look around ma wardrobe.”

 

As the plan came together Ronald put the letters back in the vanity, carefully replacing all the jewellry and perfume. Grell chatted to Alan excitedly about his upcoming makeover. Alan tried to be as polite as possible but clearly he was not looking forward to being made up to look like a lady. The day moved ahead with a new goal in mind as William reviewed all the information they had in his head so far.

 

_Price looks nervous before he dies, he is murdered, his wife is having an affair, his old partner hates him._

_Garden party at 2:00pm._

 

He suddenly gets the feeling there is more to this affair than they originally thought.      

 


	4. Disguises and Riches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another factor is added into the mix as Alan and Eric go undercover to an upper class garden party. Secrets are told from the mouths of the suspects themselves!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Firstly, i'd like to say a huge thank you to those who have kudos'd, bookmarked and commented, and a special thanks goes to BlackButlerFan13 for a lovely piece of input and advice, thank you very much! Secondly, I now have a tumblr account, so feel free to come and say hello right here: http://asmicarus.tumblr.com. Sorry this chapter took so long to write, school has been kicking me right up the bum! Disclaimer is in chapter 1. Enjoy! :D

Alan was pretty sure at this moment that he couldn’t breathe even if he tried. He made an attempt to focus his mind on something else. Grell’s shoe collection or maybe the intricate design of the jewellry box on his desk. It seemed it was to no avail; he just couldn’t ignore this kind of pain. He gasped desperately, but it seemed at every exhale the corset was just laced tighter and tighter. He gripped Grell’s dresser until his knuckles went white. He wondered for a minute if his thorns could handle the stress his body was currently being placed under. He didn’t want to have an attack, especially one that could have been so easily avoided. Oblivious to his suffering Grell continued to criss cross the purple ribbon down his spine until it was tied in a neat bow just above his tailbone. Grell himself was a little out of breath, the pulling required to properly lace the thing seemed quite taxing on the arms. Or maybe he was just getting old.

“Okay, I think we’re done here.” Grell took Alan’s gloved arm and assisted him in standing up straight. Alan had to balance himself for a second as he felt just a little lightheaded.

“Oh thank goodness.” Grell stood back from him to look him over one more time.

“It would have gone much quicker if you’d have stood still.”

 

Alan gathered himself and used a handkerchief to dab away any perspiration on his brow. Ladies did not sweat after all. Grell tapped his foot on his red carpeted floor. He spun a finger in front of Alan’s face.

“Give us a twirl then.” Alan pulled his shoulders back and held his arms stiffly by his sides. This dress was so enormous he could barely move. It was a delicate lilac with accents of floral print.  Alan considered the notion that it might have even been flattering on someone else. It was far more difficult than it should have been but he eventually managed a good 360 degrees to satisfy the reaper who was checking his every detail. Seemingly happy with his work Grell gave a decisive nod and took his hand mirror from his desk. His attention to detail came to life when he was really interested in what he was looking at. William could only wish for this level of scrutiny in the completion of paperwork.

“I present to you the soon to be Mrs. Alenna Slingby.” Alan took the delicate mirror and almost reeled in the shock of seeing his own reflection. Surely that couldn’t be him.

 

The figure in the mirror had long, soft brown hair loosely curled and pinned up with porcelain skin and natural makeup. Alan took the mirror in hand and tilted it up and down. His waist was pulled at the curve to create a slim hourglass in the dress of pastel purple, a faux rose also adorning his choker. He was stunned to say the least.

“Grell. Is this- is this really me!?” Grell went forward to tuck a few stray pieces of hair behind Alan’s ear and place fingers under his chin to hold his face up to the light.

“Rather stunning I think.” Alan was a little confused. He had always looked feminine, but to suit being a lady this much was a little unnerving.

“This is a fantastic disguise, Grell. You wouldn’t even guess…” Grell smiled, proud that his work with makeup was finally being appreciated. He wouldn’t say it to too many but he’d always had a soft spot for Alan Humphries. He didn’t seem to judge him as the other reapers did. Grell had never met someone who was simultaneously so much like Will and yet so different. Oh dear, he was getting a bit sentimental… maybe he was getting old after all.   

“You do look rather dull though, darling.” He sighed. “If only I could look that good with this minimal effort.” Grell walked to the full length mirror and looked himself up and down. Alan chose to take that as a compliment.

 

 

Alan took a quick look at Grell’s face. He wore a smile, but not one of genuine happiness. Just a twinge of sadness graced his countenance. Alan knew Grell, although as confident as he was, held such self- loathing over things such as his appearance. He considered the fact Grell was different. Physically, mentally and emotionally. He knew that self-loathing too well. He saw it in himself and thought that maybe he and Grell weren’t so different after all. Alan came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him in his reflection.

“I wouldn’t want to see you like this, Grell. It just isn’t you.” Grell looked to Alan with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Alan averted his eyes briefly before looking back coyly.

“Promise me something, Grell... don’t you dare wear black to my funeral. I want you there in the boldest red you can wear.” A lump caught in Grell’s throat. It wasn’t often the other spoke of his frail mortality, and to come out with such an acceptance. Well, Grell was flattered… and speechless. He had a friend in this reaper, even if it may not be for much longer.

“Alan, I-” The grandfather clock struck 1:00pm and the spell of the conversation was broken. The mood perked up.

“Well, time to meet your fiancé.” Alan groaned and buried his face in his hands in embarrassment. Grell laughed and guided him out to his living room.

 

Eric stood in the centre of what he was sure was the most lavishly decorated room he’d seen in his life. He was starting to get irritated as William flitted round him to tuck in any loose ends and tie up his cravat. This was the most ridiculous thing he’d worn, and that was saying something. The suit he’d been stuffed into was an absolute joke. For someone who undid the first three buttons of his shirt on a regular basis suddenly being restricted to a cravat was irritating to say the least. In addition to the monkey suit he’d also been forced to take his cane rows out and comb his hair stylishly to the side. Once William was satisfied he took a seat on the sofa next to Ronald, who busied himself with one of Grell’s crosswords. As Alan was led into the sitting room he almost had the same reaction he had to his own reflection at seeing Eric. They stood there for a good few minutes simply staring each other up and down in shock. It got awkward quickly after and Eric was the first to stutter over his words.

“You look… differen’” His eyes were wide and his cheeks turned pink. Alan smiled and smoothed out the layers of his elaborate skirt to busy himself.

“So do you. You look… nice.” Ronald stood to sling an arm around Alan’s shoulder, crossword abandoned on the arm of the sofa.

“Wow, it’s so convincing, Miss Grell! You did a great job!” Grell flicked his hair over his shoulder.

“I aim to please.” William, who had watched this whole scene play out in trepidation checked his watch.

 

_1:20_

 

 

“Well now we have sorted this matter we need to leave to be on time.” William went to stand but Grell merely tutted and pushed his shoulder to send him toppling back down onto the couch. The look he got in return was poisonous.

“No, no, no! We must be fashionably late!” fashionably late? William could not fathom a more ridiculous concept.

“Furthermore we must go over some etiquette.” Eric groaned and rubbed his eyes. The day had been taxing enough, never mind more additional rules he had to follow.

“I can’ believe I’ve seen th’ day I’m gettin’ etiquette lessons from Grell bloody Sutcliffe.”  Grell ignored the thinly veiled insult when he turned to Alan and paced up and down in front of him, not unlike a military leader.

“Okay, the soon to be Mrs. Alenna Slingby, this is an upper class function and although you may be well mannered already there are a few extra, and agreeably stupid rules you must follow. Rule number one, you call every man ‘sir’ regardless of vulgar and disgusting they may be. Rule number two, speak softly and be delicate, and don’t get yourself into politics. The final and most idiotic rule is as follows: what Eric says goes. Seeing as you are meant to be engaged they will view you as his property. Don’t disobey him.” Grell could see Ronald wince out the corner of his eye. Alan himself had made these mental notes and put them in a checklist. Sir, delicate, obedience. Alan nodded firmly, making his gently curled wig bounce slightly. The world of upper class reapers was very much detached. Property? Really? He was meant to be a lady, not an ornament. 

 

Grell then turned his attention to Eric, who so happened to be loosening his cravat. The red reaper immediately slapped his hands away to do it up, not without a groan from the man himself though.

“Mr. Slingby, rule number 1. You are presentable at all times. Rule number 2, make polite conversation and watch that mouth of yours. Rule number 3, treat your dear fiancée like a queen. If you are standing, Alan is sitting. If you are hungry, Alan gets your food. Remember though, you’re madly in love, although that shouldn’t hard to fake.” With that, Grell’s face split into a slightly disconcerting grin as he watched Eric’s face practically steam. William stood with the intent to defuse the situation before it got any further. Heaven above knows he didn’t have the time for a fight to break out.

“Yes, well, we really should be leaving now. We need to gather as much information as possible in order to get another lead.” William was first out the door with the others following close behind. Operation Mr. and Mrs. commenced in just a few short minutes.

 

Eric stepped up to the door of the grand mansion when he looked to Alan at his side. Eric could just see him twiddling his fingers under the silk gloves. He nudged Alan’s shoulder and he looked up at him. The fringe of his wig fell tantalizingly in front of his eyes and he peeked through thick eyelashes. Eric’s breath caught in his throat, wow, he was stunning, but he somehow preferred him in his nerdy bolo tie and short hair. Eric held out an arm in invitation. Alan gently took the offer and nodded, seemingly more confident knowing he wasn’t in this alone. With one more peak to the others (who had hidden behind a large hedge) the oak doors swung open and the main hall came into view. Both Eric and Alan had to take a moment to admire the hall. The ceilings were high and grand crystal chandeliers hung splendidly about the place. The marble floors reflected light around the room and ladies and gentlemen were dressed elaborately in ball gowns and suits. A pleasant chatter bounced off the walls and waiters weaved through the people with snacks and flutes of champagne.

 

Eric led Alan across the hall and looked around him casually. The last thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves. Alan kept his eyes to the ground, only looking up every so often when he thought he heard the name ‘Leon’ called out somewhere. Eric pulled out a chair situated near the edge of the room and gestured for Alan to sit down. Eric was just about to discuss how they would find Leon when a woman caught his eye. She looked just as if she was coming on to her later years. Crow’s feet had appeared around her eyes and mouth and her blonde hair was greying around the hairline. Her sky blue dress glided along the floor as she approached Eric with a slight smile on her face. He momentarily panicked, but a hand on his forearm calmed him. He put on his most charming smile and mentally prepared for the upcoming conversation. What were Grell’s rules again? Bugger. He had no clue. By now the woman was right in front of him, all smiles and happiness. Okay Eric, just play it cool.

“Why hello, young gentleman, I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of your acquaintance.” She held out a hand and Eric took it and kissed the back gently.

“Eric Slingby, M’lady. A pleasure t’ make your acquaintance.” The woman was slightly taken aback and for a second Eric couldn’t figure out why. Alan had begun to flutter a fan in front of his face delicately, just listening in on the conversation and knowing Eric’s accent had taken her by surprise. He knew because he reacted the same the first time he met him. Eric stepped aside and offered a hand to Alan to stand up. Alan curtseyed before the lady. She smiled sweetly.

“Who might this be? What a darling!” Eric placed his hand in the small of his back. Alan’s waist felt so slim in the corset. It was a little sickening.

“This is ma fiancée, Alenna Humphries, soon to be Slingby.” The woman gasped in an over exaggerated surprise.

“Congratulations, Mr. Slingby! Oh, how exciting.” She seemed to have another revelation. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Brenda, Brenda Girling.” 

 

Eric and Alan’s eyes widened only slightly. What luck! The woman herself within five minutes! Eric and Alan shook her fragile hand. A man made his way through the crowd to situate himself at the side of Brenda. Eric was finding it a little hard to have a common conversation as if he hadn’t been routing through her underwear earlier that very day. The man now next to Brenda had extended a hand to Eric.

“Wonderful party, don’t you think Mr.…”

“Slingby. Eric Slingby.” The men shook hands and nodded in a sort of masculine acknowledgement of each other.

“I’m Leon Girling. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who would be this lovely lady,” Alan faked a giggle as Leon kissed the back of his hand. There was something just a bit _off_ about him. Maybe it was the overpowering cologne or the slightly wrong coloured suit, or maybe it was the knowledge of the affair.

“Aye, ma fiancée, Alenna.”

 

They seemed like decent people as the conversation branched to all sorts of topics. It took a good twenty minutes before the two undercover reapers felt the right opportunity to pry for answers about Price’s murder.

“Aye, mate, did you ‘ear abou’ tha’ Jon Price? Murdered this mornin’!” Brenda immediately stiffened in her seat, she quickly excused herself. Alan took a look at Eric before going after her. Eric stayed put with Leon. Thinking he should not interfere with ‘women’s business’. The other man took a sip from his tea and took a bite from a scone. The look on his face was hard and showed a vague trace of irritation, like he didn’t even care. He leaned over the ornate table and put a hand to his mouth in a secretive fashion.

“I like you, Eric, you’re a man. Being surrounded by all these women hasn’t softened you. I like that.” Eric internally cringed. He thought to himself, _if that’s the part he wants me to play I’ll take it on. It could be valuable information._

“Of course, becomin’ engaged will be a good next step for a man like myself. Alenna’s a respectable one for me ta take home for ma parents. They wan’ grandchildren so bad, ya see.” Leon nodded in approval and took another bite of his scone.

“You see. This is why I never liked Price. He wasn’t a man of a caliber like you and I, Mr. Slingby. I used to work with the guy, even after years he didn’t trust me. He had a bit of a wet personality.” Eric made a point to nod as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You worked in Dispatch?” Leon nodded.

“Oh yes, I still drop by on a Tuesday to oversee the new Supreme Associates. They were admitted to the board recently, you see. I only work at head office, not in collections, where I used to work.” Eric was internally relieved. He was worried they may bump into each other and he’d find out he lied.

 

 So Leon didn’t like Price and Price didn’t trust Leon.

 

Interesting.

 

Alan swiftly followed after Brenda. He didn’t want to leave Eric’s conversation just yet. Leon had been talking to Eric and Alan could see it was something interesting, perhaps even relevant to the case. Nevertheless, a lady would comfort another one of their own. He just managed to catch the crook of her arm to halt her.

“I’m so sorry if my fiancé shocked you, madam. You know these men; they speak before they know what they’re saying.” Alan took Brenda to sit down. She looked back at him with a shared empathy, a look known only too well from experience. Alan could say he’d never felt so feminine in his life.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ll tell you this, Miss Alenna, because I think you know how it is to be surrounded by the ignorance of men.” Alan almost felt bad for betraying this woman’s trust. She was obviously lonely and had no one to talk to. Brenda leant over close and opened her own fan to hide their faces.

“Leon is not my husband, Miss Alenna. Price was my husband. I’m having an affair.” Alan feigned shock but kept his mouth shut as to not judge the lady. Alan nodded in fake understanding, hoping she would continue and reveal something about the murder that may give them a lead.

“It wasn’t my fault, really. Jon and Leon had this huge fight over some cinematic record of some sort. Jon used to work in Dispatch you see. Forgive me, Miss Alenna, for my language but Jon was an utter bastard.” The woman’s demeanor suddenly changed and a dark aura surrounded them. Alan could feel the hate bubble up and build. He was suddenly convinced this woman could kill. Just as quickly as the atmosphere was built it dwindled away into pleasant conversation once again.

 

Alan only half listened as he replayed Brenda’s little admission back in his head. A fight? Over a piece of cinematic record? That was certainly strange. Alan got no further information as they chatted idly. Eric eventually came into view and with a polite nod and exchanged handshakes, they left.

 

It had seemed that Grell, Ronald and William were watching the whole exchange. Grell stood up and subconsciously fixed Alan’s hair, which was ironic seeing as his own was full of small leaves and a few twigs.

“So, what’s the gossip?” He snapped his fingers at Ronald and he immediately took a small notepad from his inside pocket and a pen from his breast pocket and began note taking. Eric cracked his knuckles, finally glad he was able to relax.

“I spoke to Leon and he told me tha’ him and Price used to work together but they never go’ along. Price didn’t trust ‘im, described ‘im as a bit wet.” Ronald scribbled down all that Eric had said. William was about to press for more but Alan began to speak, wheezing slightly due to the tightness of his corset.

“Brenda openly admitted to her affair with Leon, she said Jon was, in her words ‘an utter bastard’.” Grell slouched slightly considering all that they had found out. Leon and Brenda were definitely suspects Distrusting work college? Adulterous wife? Both pretty good motives. He continued to speak as he loosened Alan’s corset.

“Is that all you found out?” Alan recalled his last piece of evidence.

“Apparently Jon and Leon had a fight over a piece of cinematic record of some sort.” Eric clicked his fingers as he also recalled his own information from his conversation with Leon. It must have been when Alan was absent.

“I’ll tell ya what. Leon mentioned a map, some sort of map.” Ronald looked up from his scribbling notation.

“A map?”

“Yeah. He said he had a piece of a map of some sort tha’ Brenda had given ‘im as a courtship gift. Somethin’ to do with Price’s brother, Don. She wanted to ge’ rid of it when the affair started. Real romantic.”

 

William let out a small puff of air, as if he’d been holding his breath. Another lead. To be perfectly honest, he was beginning to worry. Twelvetree would be on his back in a heartbeat in just a short number of hours. How could a failed promotion have led to all this? A battle for his innocence and two whole days of work with that biggest blithering idiots on the reaper realm. William looked among his fellows. Alan and Eric had begun to strip themselves of the more restricting items of clothing with the aid of Ronald and Grell. They didn’t have to help him, they could have left him to be fired and rot in a cell. But they didn’t. William was shocked to remember it was Grell who had first jumped to his aid and was the first to defend him… he somehow felt warm inside thinking this. Enough of that. There was new evidence.   

 

 

Price had a brother. Don. He knew something about this situation.

 

The sun had begun to set over the horizon. Had it really been a whole day already? There was no point going to see Don now it was late. They would sleep in the office and as soon as the sun rose they would go and see him. 

 

 

24 hours to go.

 

  

 

 


End file.
